MY BIRTHDAY
by Draguna Doragon
Summary: this is a oneshot smuttastic birthday present to myself and Gaara. R RATED, CORE SMUT, READ AT OWN RISK! . enjoy! not me in story


Draguna here.

Hay, guess what?

IT'S GAARA'S BIRTHDAY!!!

AND MINE TOO!! Draguna grins so I have decided as a birthday present to Gaara me, cough cough, I've written a rather smutty chapter, all for him!

Gaara:…¬.¬

DD: what?

Gaara:…never mind…

Warning, one shot for the occasion. OC involved, as I didn't want to offend anyone by using a particular paring. But I hope you like it!

pulls back the curtain And it starts!

The smell of crisp sand hung heavy in the air, as did camomile and ink. The harsh desert sun had finally receded for the chilling moon, hanging like a glowing pendulum in the night sky. The same eerie pale light shone through the open window and onto the stoic form of the village's Kazekage.

His shocking blood red hair was still as wild and ruffled as it had been in his youth, his fearsome aqua orbs were still framed in thick black rims from his chronic insomnia, his madness, his curse.

The testament of his tragic childhood marred the left side of his forehead, the Ai kanji he was famous for.

And his wrath.

Speaking of which, his mood was fast starting to match his long black trench coat and trousers. Dark, chaotic, black.

His every presence Gourd laid propped up by the Sunagakure Kazekage desk, which itself was littered with mission reports, top secret scrolls, and vital foreign requests. _And_ on his birthday, too. As of 1 hour ago.

"Damn it." Gaara Houyten, Gaara no Sabaku, the youngest most revered Kazekage Suna had ever seen, peeled his pale lips back into a furious scowl, and ran his hands back through his vivid red hair.

He had been approving these damn scrolls since 6 am this morning, and it was now 1 O'clock the _next_ morning.

Why the fuck were people so weak and pathetic that they had to come to _him_ with their _domestic_ problems?!?!?

Since _when_ did you need to hire a B rank Shinobi team from Sunagakure, in the _fire_ country, so do some fricking gardening?!?!?

Sand Shinobi!

_Gardening?!_

Gaara snarled, tired, stressed, and wanting to just close his eyes…

…but couldn't. If he slept, even once, Shukaku the one tailed Biju demon would devour his mind and go on a leisurely massacre about Sunagakure.

But he was wound up so tight.

What the poor Kazekage needed, was to vex.

And unfortunately, after taking the role of the Kazekage, he kinda took a stupid oath never to _kill_ his own people.

_Damn stupid vow, if only I could…if I could just…_

His blood lust bubbled within him, _begging_ for him to give in.

He'd done it before; it was easy. And it felt _great_ afterwards.

Feeling the life of a screaming, bleeding human, pulse against the palm of your next, knowing you would carry around their essence in your gourd for the rest of your days…a constant reminder of that _feeling_, the one that makes your mind buzz, your eyes roll back in ecstasy, and your skin come alive with electric sparks of pleasure…

…it was orgasmic.

And he _needed_ it…that feeling…

Gaara's hands twitched on the table.

Oh great, smart move. _Thinking_ about it just made him _want_ it even more. Now he was all riled up too.

_No, I will not murder anyone. I haven't killed in years now, I can survive one more night._

Yes, one more night of many, all alone, never resting, always rest-_less_…

"Kuso." The 17 year old red head jumped to his feet angrily, slamming his fists down on the table. He pulled his brown gourd straps off, and shrugged his long coat onto the back of his chair.

The black Ninja meshing covering his firm chest and defined abdomen contrasted his creamy skin.

Yes, he lived in the desert, but he never lost that eerie paleness of his skin. He assumed it to be something to do with his sand shading him, and the demon within him.

Broad, strong shoulders, but a lithe torso down to supple, narrow hips. All of this, was simply accentuated by the netting tank top he wore. His muscular arms were bare, highlighted by the moonlight, as the soft rays bought out the curve of his developed biceps, and even his supple fingers, which ran back though his hair.

Damn it, this wasn't working. The cool night breeze may have cooled his flesh, but not his _hunger_.

His black trousers hung low down his ships, and he kicked off his boots to the side.

Gaara sighed, walking round the desk and pacing the room.

He would walk it off.

Yeah, that'd work.

_Yeah…like hell it will._

Unfortunately, or not, the door to his office rapped softly at the very moment he stood before it. He blinked at the door, and pushed it open.

"Good evening, Kazekage-sama." Gaara raised a brow, finding a young girl…no…_woman_ stood in his doorway. She carried a tray in her trembling hands, dressed in plain cream breeches, and a light brown triangular poncho with a cuffed neck. It had the Suna symbol over her chest, and he couldn't see what she was wearing underneath it. Her arms were bare, as were her shaking hands on the tray. He heard rattling, but took no heed.

As he raised his inquisitive aqua eyes to her face, recognition dawned on him.

Slightly tanned skin, big blue eyes, and soft chocolate brown hair, feathered around her face and long down her slender back.

It was his secretary, Miharu Nakashime.

It was then he had to resist a smile.

She always brought him tea, religiously, at the end of his day. Whether that be noon, 3pm, or like now, 1am in the morning.

Had she been here this entire time, waiting for sounds of his leaving? "K Kazekage-sama?" She stuttered, her timid form gulping, and her bright blue eyes wide, as always.

It was obvious she was terrified of him, but it didn't matter.

He remembered the first day he started as the Kazekage. She started his day with a shy smile, a cup of coffee, and proceeded to not only pledge herself to him always, but swear her duty was to him and him alone.

Cute kid, really.

It was the only thing he could stand about being the Kazekage, this subtle, un-judging assistant of his. Usually, she actually had his work all categorised into high and low priority piles before he even arrived. And always coffee in the morning, tea at night. He caught her saying there was a reason for that, once.

"_Coffee to get you all perked up before you start, and tea before you leave. You know, so you don't stay up all night when you get home!" _ She giggled soon after that, like she always did when she spoke to him in her nervous, almost breathless voice.

Nervous, timid, shy.

He _made_ her all those things…but she served him regardless.

_She's actually quite loyal to me…_

Gaara made an acknowledging grunt in the back of his throat, and held the door open for her.

A courtesy he never usually showed _anyone._ Miharu seemed quite stunned by it at first, but soon let her rosy lips curve into a coy smile, and stepped inside. She yawned softly, and placed the tray down on his desk.

Stood on it, like he predicted, was a large tea pot, and a large mug. It was black, with hand painted yellow letters around the circumference saying 'Kazekage Sama'. She even put a smiley face after it too.

This little childish quirk of hers made him smile to himself, and retook his seat.

He watched her pour his steaming tea into the large mug before him, a desk separating them.

"Miharu-san." She flinched at the sound of her name.

That was actually the first time he had spoken back to her. Even after the years they had 'known' each other.

"H hai, Kazekage-sama?" Miharu slowly looked up, until her bright blue eyes noticed the intense fire burning in his aqua depths.

"How old are you?" he spoke stoically, purely down to business. But his eyes were telling a different story, his elbows on his desk, fingers interlocked and his lips hidden by them.

"…m me?" Miharu gulped, and did that nervous giggle of hers. "I'm 16, oh no wait…no I guess I'm 17 now. As of midnight last night." She giggled again, and finished filling the mug.

"Are you lying to me?" His eyes had widened a fraction, the only evidence of shock he displayed.

"N No! I' wouldn't ever lie to y-"

"We share the same birthday." He blinked coolly. "I am also 17 today."

There was an awkward silence, with Gaara just watching her and Miharu stood holding her tea pot.

"I am honoured, Kazekage-sama. H happy birthday." Miharu bowed her head, and placed the tea pot on the tray, on his desk.

She then pushed his mug gently towards him, and fiddled with her hands, still standing there.

This caught his attention, as she usually left as soon as she finished serving which ever drink she had brought him. "A actually, I h have a confession to make, Kazekage-sama…" Miharu gulped, and pushed her chocolate brown hair behind her delicate ears.

"Ne?" Gaara lifted his mug, and took a deep breath, loving the fresh, warm smell of it. He knew she brewed the leaves and water herself. Never any of that instant stuff you could just buy at the supermarket.

That is how highly she thought of him, that she would hand make his tea before serving him.

"H hai. I, well…I already _knew_ it was your birthday today…" It was then he noticed she was shifting nervously from one foot to the next. "And, I, I well…I got you a present, Kazekage-sama." She tensed, as if she had just insulted him.

Gaara _was_ shocked, but not unpleasantly.

In all 17 years he'd been alive, he'd never received a gift from anyone. Not even Miharu.

So, she'd finally built up the nerve, huh?

"Really?" Gaara wasn't really asking, and he took a sip of his tea.

Liquid perfection, as always.

She seemed to find her hands impossible to hold still, so she flung them behind her.

"H hai. It's in your top draw, if you want to look…"

Silently, without breaking the fiery eye contact, Gaara lowered his mug to the table, and pulled out his top draw.

He then dropped his eyes to the item in the draw, feeling it with his fingers.

Soft cotton fabric felt smooth and cool to his finger tips, and he had to pull it out immediately.

A large, cream coloured cloak spread across his desk, with a large sand coloured gourd, a striking resemblance to the one by his side, but the MWM symbols had been replaced with the Ai kanji, and scattered…love hearts?

Yes, and there was a cute little Tanuki, resembling a fluffy sandy kitten, peering out from the top of the gourd with big chibi eyes.

It was cute.

Through and through.

Gaara didn't know what to do with it.

Here, the famous killer, monster, feared Jinchuriki, Gaara of the desert…

…was holding staring down at the cutest thing he had ever seen.

"It's…" he brushed his fingers over the little chibi Biju, feeling the perfectly stitched fabric of it. "…fluffy…."

"I I d didn't quite know what to get you, s so I made you something instead." Miharu gulped, patiently waiting for him to throw it back at her.

But instead, he lifted it from the desk in his hands and felt the soft cotton between his fingers. It was warm, and had that snugly texture to it over your skin.

"Arigato." Gaara smoothed it over his desk, stood up, and whipped it round until he could tie the cords around his neck.

It was long, billowing around his ankles. It was quite a contrast to his usual pitch black attire. It made him look quite docile.

Miharu blinked, and forgot herself or her company, smiling immediately as soon as he put it on.

Because she knew from his action, he had accepted her gift. It made her eyes glisten brightly, and she even leaned forward over the table with her hands on the desk, beaming at him.

"It suits you Kazekage-sama! I was so worried about the length of it, but it doesn't seem to be too long at all." She giggled, and scampered round the desk to look him over.

"It's quite…different." Gaara coughed into his hand, never in a million years believing that on his 17th birthday at 1 o'clock in the morning, would he be stood in his office, with his secretary, wearing a _light cream_ cloak and _not_ his trademark black coat. "Do you wear things like this?" He then looked down at her cream linen breeches and cream brown poncho.

Obviously, she did. "Arigato, Miharu-chan."

"Oh I-" Miharu instantly blushed. Gaara just referred to her as familiarly as possible. "…it was my pleasure, Kazekage-sama."

"Call me Gaara." Miharu was stunned, finally realising how close they were. And with the cloak open…she could see the thin meshing covering his Herculean body…

Gaara raised a brow, when he noticed how her sapphire eyes dropped to his front, following her gaze to his lower abdomen…

"…Gaara-kun…"

It was strange.

With her looking at him like that, that shy blush burning on her cheeks, so close…his hunger returned with a vengeance, bubbling over and frothing at the rims of his sanity.

And yet…he didn't want to _kill_ to achieve his release…but…what could that mean?

Even as he contemplated this, his hands had already forcefully grabbed the poor girl's shoulders, making her yelp sharply.

He desperately tried to take his hands back, knowing he was scaring her with how tightly his fingers dug into her shoulders. He almost let his face contort in confusion, when he pulled her _towards_ him.

"K Kazeka-ah!" Her chest came flush up to his, and Gaara's jaw jutted out with the tension. "…Gaara-kun…" Miharu whispered, finally realising that he _wasn't_ going to attack her at all. Unlike Gaara, she recognised the lust in his eyes, the burning sensation in her abdomen, caused by their sudden proximity.

Gaara used his hold on her to press her breasts tight against his firm chest…pleasurably…

"Miharu…I-" He gulped, finally allowing emotions to express confusion and slight fear on his face. "I-"

Miharu blushed, leaned forward, and placed a feather light kiss on his cheek.

Gaara was stunned to the core, feeling shocks of delight shiver through his body, until he found himself wide eyed and looking heatedly at Miharu.

It that was what _one, innocent_ kiss caused…

"Ah!" She yelped, finding herself gripped suddenly by feverish hands on her buttocks. He jerked her round and trapped her between him, and his desk. His predominant arousal ground into her with an impulse thrust, and Miharu whimpered, gripping tightly to his shoulders lest she fall over. Gaara grunted, dipping his head into the crook of her neck on auto pilot, and lifted her up to sit on his desk.

Rabid desire coursed through his veins, powering through him rapidly, as his breathing quickened.

Why was touching her so…amazingly good?

Could being with a person, feel better than killing one?

Miharu moaned, like a siren to his lips, making him drag his teeth heavily over her neck. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, as he leaned her backwards, lowering her towards the desktop. "G Gaara!"

Gaara growled, closing his eyes and hungrily lapping over her neck, starting at the hollow of her collarbone, and trailing hotly up to the lobe of her ear.

Miharu was soon on her back and sprawled out before him on the desk, her legs wrapped around his waist by his insistent hands.

"G…gonna…" Gaara mumbled, incapable of coherent sentences.

All senses had locked down, directing all his energy towards this one, powerful _need_.

It didn't matter that Miharu still pressed her hands to his chest, as he molested the other side of her neck. The feel of her rapid pulse through the delicate skin on her neck, the only medium between her blood, and his nipping teeth. "W want…" He swung one arm under her bum, keeping their pelvises grinding together, as he smoothed his free hand up her cream poncho…

…to find her deliciously lacking in clothes underneath it.

In his mind, it was her own damn fault. She was _asking_ for a good screwing if she thought she could subconsciously drive him crazy with shy smiles, wearing nothing but a flimsy _bra_ underneath her poncho.

True, most women wore nothing but their underwear beneath their ponchos in Suna, to stay cool in the heat.

And she probably didn't count on Gaara becoming suddenly randy and restless upon her arrival.

She may have come with the intention of serving him tea, but would leave after he consumed every part of _her_.

He would accept nothing less. Not until he could map out her every curve, her every dip of her body and taste her sweet, sweet innocence on his tongue.

This feeling of raw, uncontrolled, wanton _desire_, was like _nothing _he'd ever felt before.

He could control the blood lust.

But this…this was something entirely different, entirely new.

Gaara couldn't even _think_ clearly, as he smoothed his hand over her tender navel, curving round her hip and cupping the small of her back, and using his hold to his advantage, lifting her further onto the table. He brought his other hand up to continue the path, making her mew deliciously, when he moulded his hand round one of her firm breasts.

Compared to the rest of her, or even him, her breasts were so delicate, so vulnerable compared to the rest of her, he couldn't help but be tender as he massaged her full mound in his hand, trapping her nipple between his fingers.

And to think, he'd never done this before.

No wonder all his men found women so irresistible, if it led to _this_ feeling!

He should have done this sooner…

He hitched a breath in his throat, when timid hands slipped through the gaps in his mesh top, and traced lightly over his toned six-pack.

Lusty aqua eyes looked down into half lidded sapphires, and leaned forward.

At the same time, he shrugged his birthday present from his shoulders and to Miharu's side. He then _threw_ his Ninja meshing to the floor, smirking when the Kunoichi's eyed drank over him shamelessly.

The timid little mouse was far too aroused to remember her bashfulness.

Miharu snapped up, wrapping her arms around his neck and finally kissing him.

Gaara froze at first, having never kissed anyone before. But obviously Miharu had, as she smoothed their lips at an angle, and opened her mouth invitingly for him.

Spurred on by curiosity and raging arousal alone, Gaara went for it, plundering her mouth desperately. He licked the roof of her mouth with his tongue, and flinched as her own tongue slid along his, velvety soft.

As he discovered every little nook and cranny of her mouth, Miharu held onto his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist, successfully jerking him forward, until his hard groin pressed against her once more. Gaara wounds his arms behind her, up her back, and lost his fingers in her soft brown hair, puling her as close as physically possible. But she pulled back now and then, to nip and suckle at his lips, leaving them wet, and leaning in to let their tongues dance passionately once more.

Gaara groaned, allowing her to take over for now, intoxicated for the moment by her damn talented tongue. It twisted with his own, and he mimicked her, until he did what he always did.

Took dominance.

Miharu whimpered, being forcedly pushed back to lay on the table, but this time Gaara shoved her over it horizontally.

He stood back for a moment, looking down at the panting, sexily dishevelled Kunoichi laid on his desk, looking up at him with pleading sapphire eyes and parted, passion swollen lips. Gaara was just as rough at kissing as he was with all his actions.

But the sight of her there, her chest rising and falling under that thin poncho, knowing there was only a half off bra under there, another breast to be fondled, her legs were already parted, he couldn't help but pounce on her naively seductive form.

Did she even know how erotic she looked? With her hair a wild mess from manhandling, looking almost as wild as he did?

Gaara decided that he desperately wanted to take her trousers off, now!

Luckily for him, Miharu must have come to the same conclusion, as she unbuttoned her breeches and shimmed them down, blushing madly as Gaara attacked her poncho, lifting it over her head to join his mesh top on the floor.

He then clambered onto the table, dragging his wet, hot lips up her neck, leaving scorning kisses all up her neck, and back towards her breasts.

At last, her breeches were kicked off somewhere, and Miharu reached up, brushing her hands up his sides, and up his front. Gaara trembled, growling, and shuffled down to kneel between her legs. Miharu sat up with him, and Gaara opened his eyes wide at the sound of a bra clasp clicking.

Gaara knelt up, watching as the flimsy thing fell away, discarded, and revealed the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Smooth, honey breasts jiggled slightly as she sat up straight, her pert nipples standing out from the curved mound of her bosoms. Gaara slowly reached forward, holding her hips and bringing her to kneel up with him, her nipples brushing ghostly across his chest.

He moaned, holding her tighter, and nipping enthusiastically at her shoulder. Miharu wrapped her arms around his neck again, one hand hanging down his back, the other travelling up into his hair. Gaara took the opportunity to suck and maul at her neck, leaving deep purple marks where he'd been.

But neither of them cared.

Miharu even threw her head back, giving him more room to bite her, their heaving chests pressed together. Gaara dropped his hands round her back, and deftly pushed her fresh panties down, hearing her gasp as the cool _morning_ air licked at her exposed tresses. Gaara found the delicious neck he was sucking on taken away from him, and he growled.

Only to watch that _sexy_ Kunoichi, brought out in the height of passion, lay back on the table and open her legs for him.

She silently submitted, and Gaara felt like he could just roar with desire.

As quickly as he could, he unbuttoned his black trousers and shoved them to his knees, balancing from one to the next to kick them away. He then slid her panties off her ankles, and dropped them in his top draw.

Miharu raised a brow at this, but soon forgot what she was curious about when she saw he had disposed of his boxers as well.

Miharu blushed, biting her bottom lip, as she saw Gaara's thick, long, rock hard erection, glistening at the tip with excited pre-cum. The shaft was had more colour than his rest of his pale skin, surprisingly, more of a peachy pink in comparison.

Or was that just the blood coursing through it?

His pubic hairs were just as red as his head of scarlet hair, and his scrotum hung beneath his penis.

Miharu whimpered, reaching out to feel its texture in her hands as he crawled up he body again. This time he licked at her navel, leaving a wet trail up to the valley of her breasts, and biting her there slightly. Miharu mewed, and heard Gaara suck on a breath as she grasped his cock at last.

Gaara leaned on his knees and elbows by her head, eyes closed and panting, as Miharu slowly smoothed her hand down the length of his shaft, stroking him, tracing a finger back up the length to moisten her fingertip with his pre-cum. Gaara opened his eyes, horny as hell, and watched as Miharu got his attention, with that same finger before her lips. She opened them, and timidly darted her tongue out, licking his cum off her finger.

Gaara then released a loud growl, grabbing her wrists and flinging them to the disk, pinning them there as he crashed his mouth to hers.

The feel of their lithe, steady sweating bodies writhing together against the table was excruciatingly erotic, the fire within them getting hotter and hotter, until it threatened to devour them in painful bliss.

Gaara couldn't resist any longer.

He looked haphazardly towards his gourd, and distantly heard the cork 'pop' clear of the funnel. He felt her squirm worriedly as her wrists were freed, and restrained above her head by the sand instead. But he muffled any of her complaints with his mouth, angling his body up as if an expert.

There as a moment, though he'd never admit it, where he was frightened. What if he entered her wrong? What if he hurt her?

What if.

What if.

All it took to make his decision was her legs rubbing against his hips encouragingly, before he too the 'plunge'.

First he lowered his hand between her thighs, venturing fingers roaming through her wire brown tresses, until he felt her writhe and mewl beneath him, his fingers finding her inner folds and parting them gently.

With what little restraint he had left, he slowly placed the crown of his cock at her entrance, and looked to her passion filled face.

What was he looking for?

A sign to stop? Disgust? Fear?

What he found was pleading, half lidded sapphire eyes, ardour dancing in them and parted, panting lips.

"Ga Ga Gaara!" Before he even had time to think, she had bucked upwards, pushing the tip of his penis inside her. Miharu moaned, and didn't have to wait long.

"Losing patience, ne?" He chuckled huskily, licking at her middle in one swipe, loving how her body squirmed to get more of his touch, and how she whimpered when he slid more of himself inside of her.

"H, hai, please." She panted. "_pleeease."_ Gaara moaned himself, her inner walls deliciously tight around his cock, so slick, so mind-blowingly hot. The wet sensation was amazing, and he lost control, thrusting all the way in harshly. Miharu gasped, arching against the table, trying to pull her hands free to cling to him.

But his sand held her steady, stopping that action before it even started.

Gaara paused, once fully sheathed within her, his mind numb with ecstasy. Slowly, getting a feel for her, he slid out slightly, and thrust back again. After a few devastatingly slow, torturously hot tries, he started to get the hang of it, though he was fast losing any sot of sanity, quickly imagining himself fucking her into the table cruelly. In fact…

Miharu screamed in pleasure, sweet rapture pulsing through her as he rocked against her, grinding her against desk with a furious pace. Sweat droplets beaded on her skin, making a fine sheen of natural gloss and lubricant for their writhing limbs, her heels digging into the desk and her toes curling, as she bucked against him. Some sweat gathered and ran down between her breasts, and just below her bust line. But it went no further, as Gaara dipped down to retrieve it with his hot tongue, tasting the slightly salty essence of her, and groaning. He hit that special spot within her over and over again, long since past caring whether he hurt her or not, as if _knowing_ he couldn't. Skin against skin, body against body, tongue against tongue, they rocked together madly, as Gaara feverishly ran his hands over her hips, round her waist, up her front, and cupping her breasts in turn. He still had at least one hand against the desk, needing the leverage. Miharu bucked against in perfectly, getting him deeper inside her and begin rewarded by making her Kazekage groan breathlessly, lips parted against her own, and he quickly buried his face against her neck, resuming his earlier biting.

At last, he let his sand recede, and the first thing she did was buck her hips upwards, using her knew manoeuvrability to toss them over to the side. Gaara gasped with bliss, as he found himself flat on his back, with Miharu straddling him from above. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and quickly picked up the pace, grinding her hips forward against his, until Gaara threw his head back and gutturally yowling in ecstasy.

"…haru…" he panted, running his hands up her thighs, arching up against her every thrust, meeting her head on.

Surely he had been blessed with a goddess in hiding for a secretary, to have nice rounded breasts, such a curved figure, such…everything.

She looked orgasmically good up there, her long feathered brown hair stuck to the sweat of her back, her brown eyes blazing with passion and looking directly into his own, mirrored with lust and ardour. Gaara then grabbed at her ass, assisting her to grind against him harder, desperately wanting to be the one in control again. "Over, now." He demanded, sitting up and gripping at her arms. He gave her a commanding, hard kiss, and flipped them back over, with no protests from Miharu.

He then drove her into the desk, feeling a wonderful feeling build up inside him, and sucked in a breath as her walls suddenly tightened all around him. Her legs even wrapped around him again, and she clawed down his back, arching against him and shuddering in a wave of climactic paradise.

"GAAAARAA!" She moaned loudly, and he couldn't take anymore. A hot chill sparked down his spine to his cock, rocking into her with a final thrust, quivering as he came inside a woman for the first time in his life.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his skin tingled with explosive delight, falling both into the depths of true passion, gasping in sweet spasms of his orgasm.

When he finally went limp inside her, he crawled backwards, looking to her spent form on his desk.

He now _liked_ his desk.

Gaara stood weakly, still feeling quite worn-out himself, and pulled on his black trousers.

He didn't look at her as he did this, only seeing her out of the corner of his eyes as she slid herself of his desk, and got dressed herself.

Once stood in her bra and poncho, she reached for his top desk draw.

"Leave it." He gulped, turning his back to her.

Miharu flustered, not knowing whether to be worried or honoured that the great Kazekage wanted to keep her French panties in his top draw.

"…Ga-Kazekage-sa-"

"Gaara. I told you to call me Gaara, Miharu-chan." Gaara gulped, pulling his new cloak over his shoulders and tying it around his neck, not bothering with any of his shirts or coats.

It was also a good sign, if he still wanted to wear her present to him.

Miharu silently pulled her breeches back up, and waited by his desk.

"…Gaara-sama…I-"

"I want to see you in my office later this morning with coffee, and after my shift with tea." Miharu blinked, and frowned.

She still felt so…wonderfully tingly all over. It was no secret that she harboured feelings for the Kazekage, as she had often defended him to her peers and been sussed by them. and to have finally…for him to have…

She bowed her head obediently, and turned to leave.

She got as far as the door, before her arm was grabbed and she was yanked not only under a homemade cape by muscular arms, but had her lips parted forcefully by his powerful tongue. Miharu moaned, clinging to his waist as she kissed him back just as hotly. But that didn't make her blush. What he said _next_ made her blush. "And don't wear any underwear. It's fiddly."

Her cheeks burned red, but her lips curved into a wide smile.

"Hai, Gaara-kun." She then blushed even more, biting her lips as she wondered if she dared to say it. She decided to wing it. After her evening, well, morning, it couldn't hurt. "As you wish, Ra-Ra."

Gaara actually _blushed_ at the pet name, and jerked her against him for another heated kiss.

30 minutes later, Gaara sat alone by his desk, tea stains on his office floor, smashed tea pottery scattering here and there, and his clothes and mission reports littering the entire floor surface.

But he couldn't stop grinning.

Gaara had the best birthday present of all, and the cloak was nice too.

He decided he liked sex.

The lust he had for it, after just once, was stronger than any of his previous blood lust, and he didn't have to kill anyone to satisfy it.

_I just have to wait for my delicious little Miharu-chan with her hot mugs of home grown delights to enter my office._

And that was the day, that Gaara and Miharu turned 17. The day, where Sunagakure actual saw Gaara _smile_ in public!

Everyone was worried, but didn't dare say anything.

And Miharu?

Well, she decided she liked scrubbing tea and coffee stains off the floor, as it was usually her fault they got there…

AN: THE END!

It's a one shot, just because it's OUR birthday, and I thought it would be fun to write.

It was, and Gaara SO rulz!

Till next time peeps,

From

Draguna Doragon.


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